One Second
by Myra109
Summary: You can save a life in a single second. Or destroy it. When Sirius told Severus about the Whomping Willow, it caused a snowball effect that will change the course of history forever. It only took one second for the phrase to leave his lips, but it changed the world. Suicide attempt, language, child abuse, AU


_Hello. I'm doing this off of a writing prompt I found in a book called 600 Things To Write About (or something like that). The prompt is:_

 **What can happen in a second**

 **ALSO, PLEASE CHECK OUT THE POLL ON MY PROFILE. I'm trying to decide which story to post next, so the summaries are in my bio and just vote for the idea you like the most.**

 _ **Disclaimer: I own nothing**_

 _ **WARNINGS: SUICIDE ATTEMPT, CHILD ABUSE, IMPLIED SEXUAL ABUSE (BUT IT'S ONLY 2 OR 3 LINES), LANGUAGE**_

* * *

It took one second to say the phrase, one moment for the secret to leave his lips and reach his enemy's ears. Yet, that single second changed the world forever.

"You want to know? Press the knot on the Whomping Willow and find out Remus's secret. I dare you, Snape," Sirius Black hisses, his nails biting into his palms as he clenches his fists tighter.

For a moment, all he sees is red, but then, that crimson fades from his vision to reveal Snape turning tail and racing towards the insane tree on the edge of the grounds.

Sirius's feet were glued to the floor by an unbreakable curse- a metaphorical one. The curse of shock and guilt.

And then, the curse somehow shatters, but Sirius only succeeds in taking three steps back and colliding with the wall.

What had he done?

And then, he's off, bolting like a runner after the bang of the gun; the distance to Gryffindor tower seems to stretch until it feels like he's been running for hours when in reality, it wasn't even a minute.

Bursting through the door to the dorm room he shares with his three best friends, he starts talking a mile a minute, the neverending stream of words not even making sense to his own ears.

"Woah, Padfoot, slow your roll!" James Potter exclaimes as he sits up in his bed. Peter isn't there; Sirius doesn't know where he is, and right now, he doesn't care. And Remus... oh, Remus. "What's wrong?"

"I-I told... I told Snape how to get past the Willow!" Sirius burst out, just slow enough for James to understand.

"What?!" James screams so loudly, someone in another dorm room shouts at them to shut up. "Damn it, Sirius, why?"

"I-I didn't mean t-"

James doesn't let him finish; he's out the door before Sirius can get the first word past his trembling lips.

"I'm sorry," Sirius whispers to the empty room.

* * *

The door is opened, strangely calmly, an hour later. James and Peter enter, not even glancing at Sirius Black on the way in; James must have told Peter.

Sirius stares them down for about thirty seconds before James speaks.

"Dumbledore wants to see you."

He doesn't elaborate; instead, the raven chooses to curl up in his bed and turn off the light, allowing Sirius to stumble towards the door in the darkened room.

The walk to Dumbledore's office is agonizing. Sirius hasn't been this nervous or frightened since he climbed the stairs to his father's office the day he got back from his first year at Hogwarts. He'd walked out of that office with bruises, welts, and trembling hands from the Cruciatus. That doesn't help his nerves.

The eldest child of Orion and Walburga Black arrives at the statue marking the entrance to the Headmaster's office. The statues glower at him in disappointment before parting to reveal a spiral staircase that leads to the man's office.

Sirius climbs, slowly, his legs quivering, poised to give out and send him falling back down the steps again. Part of him feels he deserves it.

The sharp knocks seem too loud in the otherwise silent stairwell.

"Come in," a strong and wise voice calls, a voice that can only belong to Albus Dumbledore.

Sirius opens the door, struggling for a moment due to his shaking fingers.

"Sit, Sirius."

Maybe it's the quiet voice. Or the disappointed expression. But Sirius thinks that it's the way Dumbledore's eyes lose their twinkle when they meet Sirius's silver orbs.

The teenager obeys, sitting in the chair across from his headmaster.

For a long moment, no one says a word.

"Sirius... you do understand that actions have consequences, correct?"

Sirius shifts in his seat. Yes, he knows. If you talk back, you get slapped. If you insult someone, you get whipped. If you disobey Father... watch out.

"Yes, sir."

"Then... what do you think I should do?"

The confusion and surprise are so great that Sirius's hands almost stop shaking. Almost.

"Aren't you going to expel me?"

"Sirius, if you did not feel guilty, I would, but you do. I have a feeling there is more to what happened tonight, and I am not going to make you tell me. Therefore, I will let you decide your punishment, and I will deem it fit."

Sirius contemplates it. Detention doesn't seem punishing enough, even if he has it for the rest of the year. Suspension... does he deserve to get beaten for what he's done?

If Sirius were to say that aloud, no one would send him home, but there's the guilt. The claws that scratch at his throat; the tsunami that's occurring in his stomach; the monster ripping and tearing at his heart.

"Two weeks suspension," Sirius whispers. "That will end as the winter holidays begin, so basically, I'll be home for a month."

Dumbledore nods. "All right, Sirius. I will give you tomorrow to see your teachers for work and pack your things. Come to my office at five thirty. Here's a pass."

Sirius takes the small slip of parchment before thanking the professor and leaving the office.

Sirius returns to the dorm and lies in his bed, not bothering to change.

What had he done? He wonders. Why did I do it?

 _"How would everyone feel about perfect Sirius Black if they knew that he was beaten bloody by his parents?"_

Snape's voice echoes in his head, making Sirius pull at his hair in an effort to shut it up.

 _"Or that he's gay?"_

He pulls harder.

 _"Or that he's a cutter?"_

He pulls even harder.

 _"Or that he likes Remus Lupin? Speaking of which, where is your boyfriend tonight? I'm sure he's missing his bitch."_

Pain skitters across his scalp.

 _"He's got a secret, Black. What is it? Does he have another bitch? You during the week and another on the weekends? Which of you is better in bed?"_

 _"You want to know? Press the knot on the Whomping Willow and find out Remus's secret. I dare you, Snape."_

Black strands of hair fall into his hands.

What has he done?

* * *

The next day, Sirius gathers his work for the next two weeks and packs his trunk. He skips breakfast and lunch and all of his classes in favor of packing and drowning in guilt.

At five thirty, he arrives at Dumbledore's office and with a final goodbye, Sirius steps into the floo.

No sooner had his feet touched the carpet did a fist come in contact with his nose.

Sirius tumbles to the floor, instinctively holding a hand over his nose, his stomach turning as he feels something hot and sticky run down his fingers. Fire burns across his face; his nose is surely broken.

"Get up," his father growls.

Sirius stumbles to his feet, using the fireplace mantle for support.

"I've decided to be lenient, boy," his father snarls. "For the next four weeks, you are our house elf. The others are locked in the cellar, so you are on your own. You will cook, clean, and do everything we say, lest we punish you. Got it?"

Sirius nods.

His father slaps him. "You will respond with yes, sir, or yes, ma'am. You will speak only when spoken to. Now, I repeat: got it?"

Sirius smirks, some of his famous spunk finally returning. "Yes, ma'am."

His father lashes out, gripping Sirius's hair and banging it against the bricks of the fireplace. Sirius's silver eyes widen when his father's thin but very strong fingers curl around his throat.

"What did you say?"

"Yes, sir," Sirius rasps.

His father smiles. "Good boy. I expect this list to be done by dinner, in the order it is written."

A piece of parchment is thrust at Sirius before Orion storms out of the room.

The list is never ending.

1: vacuum the floors in the living room

2: dust all surfaces in the living room

3: do the dishes

4: sweep the floors in the kitchen

5: scrub and dry the floors in the kitchen

6: dust all surfaces in the kitchen

7: clean all downstairs bathrooms thoroughly

8: make the bed in spare room 1

9: dust all surfaces in spare room 1

10: vacuum the floors in spare room 1

11: make dinner (meal is on the counter in the kitchen)

*Be done at six thirty

NOTE: everything is to be done BY HAND! NO MAGIC!

Six thirty? That was less than an hour!

Sirius sighs. No use complaining; the sooner he started, the sooner he would get it done.

* * *

The living room didn't take long since that room was always kept clean in case guests came by.

But the kitchen... oh, boy.

The dishes were easy at first before his father came in.

"No," his father grunts before draining the water and turning on the taps as hot as they will go. "I want them clean, not just wet, brat."

"Yes, sir," Sirius rasps, the memory of his father's hand gripping his throat frightening him into obedience.

Taking a deep breath, Sirius thrusts his hands into the water; he bites his lip to keep from crying out as intense pain runs over his hands. Then, he scrubs the dishes while his father watches over his shoulder, smirking at the pain flickering across his son's face.

When the dishes are done, Sirius sweeps and gets on his knees to scrub the floor. His parents are notorious clean freaks and believe that mops don't get the job done; they're not doing the work, so what does it matter to them if the work is harder?

As Sirius scrubs the floor, his father watches before he feels his father's presence much closer now, almost touching.

"Oh, don't stop. I'm just enjoying the view," his father chuckles, cruelly.

Sirius blushes and continues with his chores, trying not to think of his father's eyes glued to his back and... lower areas. He'll get sick if he does.

* * *

The clock chimes six thirty, just as the oven beeps. Sirius extracts the pot roast before carrying it, the bowl of mashed potatoes, and the salad into the dining room.

He sets the meal on the table and goes to pull his chair out.

"Nuh uh," his mother tutts. "House elves don't eat at the table." She promptly cuffs him around the head.

She grabbed a piece of bread from the basket and tosses it to him.

"There's your dinner. Now, sit right over there and eat," she points to a dusty corner on her side of the table.

Sirius opens his mouth to protest, but she cuts him off.

"Would you rather have nothing, Sirius?"

He shuts his mouth and sits in his instructed corner before nibbling on the bread.

"Did you get all your chores done?" His mother asks, not even glancing in his direction.

Sirius bites his lips. "I, erm, didn't get to the spare bedroom, and I still have one bathroom to clean."

His father turns his cold eyes towards him. "I thought we told you to finish the list by six thirty."

Sirius gulps. "You did, sir, but the list was so long, and-"

"Stop your complaining!" His father barks. "We'll talk about this after dinner."

Sirius whispers, "Yes, sir."

Dinner continues in the quiet, limited conversation way that can only belong to the Black family. It ends far too soon for Sirius's liking.

His father jerks him up the stairs to his office, where he throws him to the floor and steps on his back to prevent him from getting up.

"What did you do wrong, you mangy mutt?" His father growls.

"I-I didn't get my chores done on time."

"Y-y-yes," his father mocks, enunciating every Y with a stomp on his back. "And you do understand that actions have consequences, correct?"

 _"You do understand that actions have consequences, correct?"_

Dumbledore had said the same thing after Sirius... after Sirius betrayed his friends. Hearing it again was worse than the stomps that bruised his back.

Speaking of which, his father stomps on his back again.

"Well, do you, you fucking idiot?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then, you understand that I will have to punish you?"

Sirius bites his lip hard enough to draw blood. "Yes, sir."

He hears the belt before he feels it. The smack of leather against his back is deafeningly loud in the otherwise silent room. Pain flares across his upper back; blood soaks his shirt and glues it to his skin.

The whipping goes on for several minutes, although it feels like several hours for Sirius. For a moment, the punishment pauses, and Sirius naively believed that it was over.

Until something tore through his back with ten times the pain- the belt buckle.

* * *

The clock strikes seven thirty, and Orion hauls Sirius's broken, bleeding body down the steps to a small closet. When he opens it, Sirius tries to twist his way out of his father's grip, but it's no use. The elder man reaches inside the closet and unlocks the dog cage before tossing his son inside.

"NO!" Sirius screams as he tugs at the bars of his new prison. "FATHER! FATHER, PLEASE! DADDY!"

Sirius isn't proud of his begging, or of how he sounded like a five year old that was experiencing the belt for the first time.

The door closes anyway, and a silencing charm is cast.

"NO!"

Sirius curls up in the cage, thinking about turning into Padfoot, but when he did so, all he could think about was Remus, so he changed back.

The teenager places his head on his arms and tries to get some sleep.

He wishes he hadn't.

* * *

Remus Lupin is intelligent. Everyone knows this, but Remus is not smart enough to figure out why his best friend had betrayed him.

James told him that Sirius was just being a bastard, but Remus just knows that there was more to it. Sirius had never betrayed them before, so why now? He'd known Remus's secret for three years, so why choose now to betray him?

It was a question that kept him up at night. And when he finally manages to fall asleep, he is faced with an even more gruesome sight than the memory of betrayal.

* * *

He doesn't recognize the place he's in, but it's an office of some sort. There's an oak desk and bookshelves packed with novels and textbooks. There are tapestries on the walls, but no pictures. It looks like an ordinary office, if a bit barren.

If it weren't for the scene occurring in the center of the room.

A teenage boy is lying face down on the rug, sobbing quietly in pain. A man stands over him, whipping his back with a belt buckle while kicking him in between hits. The boy's shirt is soaked through with blood.

Remus stumbles back; if this weren't a dream, he would've lost his dinner a long time ago.

The man, mercifully, stops whipping the boy.

"Now, answer me. Are you going to finish your chores on time from now on?" The man growls.

"Yes, sir," the boy mumbles, spitting out blood. His voice sounds familiar, but Remus can't place it.

"Good."

The man lugs the boy down a flight of stairs and opens the door to a small coat closet.

Remus's eyes widen. Inside the closet is a metal cage- a cage for a dog. There's nothing else inside the closet.

The man tosses the boy inside, smirking as he prepares to slam the door.

"NO!" The boy screams as he tugs at the bars of his new prison. "FATHER! FATHER, PLEASE! DADDY!"

The man moves to the side, giving Remus a full view of the boy, before he slams the door.

"SIRIUS!"

* * *

Remus sits bolt up right in his bed, breathing heavily; he clings to the fragments of his dream, but they are slipping away like water between his fingers. Before he knows it, the memory of the dream has vanished.

He can only remember one thing.

Something is wrong with Sirius.

* * *

Sirius is allowed out of the cage the next morning and forced to clean the entire house, plus cooking meals, before sundown. The prying eyes of his father watch his every move, and his mother screams at him whenever she finds a single speck of dust- even if it was her imagination.

By the time dinner ends, Sirius is so tired, he almost passes out when he unfolds himself from his cramped corner. But his torture is not over yet.

Bruises blossom across his wrists as his father yanks him into the basement, where he is pushed onto the floor. Orion forces Sirius onto his back and arranges his limbs until he's in sit up formation.

"300 sit ups. Go."

"But-"

"I said, GO!"

Sirius may be fit since he is a Quidditch player, but after cleaning from dawn to dusk with only a scrap of bread as fuel, he doesn't have the energy to do a work out. But his father's fists are enough motivation, even as he is forced through fifty push ups, hundreds of jumping jacks, countless squats, and other exercises.

"Kreacher!" His father suddenly calls, and the house elf pops in, glaring at Sirius. "Sirius, you are to repeat this work out until the sun comes up, at which time, I will come and get you. Kreacher, watch him."

His father leaves, and Sirius coughs before lying on the floor to perform his sit ups.

The hours drone on, and Sirius is surprised when the disgust is Kreacher's eyes turns to pity.

"Stop," he says.

"But-"

"Master Regulus called me before you arrived; he asked me to watch out for you. If you die of exhaustion, I wouldn't have done my job very well," the house elf tells him.

"But why would Reg-"

"You're not the only who's felt the full extent of your father's wrath. What do you think happened to Regulus when he kissed a Muggle boy over the summer?"

"I don't remember that."

"You were at the Potters."

"Oh."

Kreacher frowns. "Why are you here, Master Sirius? The Winter holidays are two weeks away."

"I... did something bad. I got suspended."

"What did you-"

"Sirius," Orion hisses as he walks in. "How many times have you gone through the work out."

"Twenty."

"You should've gone through it at least twenty-five times, lazy arse. Get up."

Sirius struggles to his feet and is handed a list of chores.

* * *

The days drone on, like a disk on repeat. Chores, scrap of bread for dinner, workout; every Wednesday and Sunday, Sirius sleeps in the dog cage.

The Winter holidays near, and Sirius isn't doing well; he has an awful cold, and his movements are sluggish due to exhaustion. He's malnourished, sleep deprived, dehydrated, and depressed, not to mention the injuries he received during beatings.

But one day, his usual routine is interrupted... and for the most part, it was a good thing.

The floo flares up, and two people step out of the emerald flames- Orion and Regulus Black.

Sirius smiles for the first time in days. Despite popular belief, he and his brother are great friends when no one is watching; in a world full of hateful family members and here-there friends, Sirius could count on his brother.

His father doesn't say a word to either of them; he scowls at Regulus and completely ignores Sirius as he storms out of the room.

Regulus grins and races forward to embrace his brother.

"Siri, you look awful!" Regulus exclaimes.

"Thanks, Reg," Sirius laughs. "Now, I have to get back to my chores, but-"

"I'll do them."

Whatever Sirius had been expecting, it hadn't been that. "What?"

"I'll do them."

"No, Reg, Father would be pissed."

"No, he wouldn't. As long as he's torturing someone, he doesn't care who it is. And besides, I kissed a Muggle boy over the summer; Father is against Muggles and homosexuals. You're a Gryffindor, and you hang out with blood traitors. But Dad's a homophobic before a pureblood manic, so he's more pissed at me anyway."

"But I can't make you-"

"Siri, if you don't get some sleep soon, you may never reach your eighteenth birthday. I'll do the chores today, and we'll work together for the rest of the week."

So Sirius sleeps in Regulus's room (since his father had locked Sirius's room and taken the key) while his brother cleans the house from top to bottom. That night, Orion teaches Regulus the exercise plan, although Reggie's is much harder than Sirius's; Regulus was right when he said that their father was a homophobic above anything else.

The winter holidays are painful, especially when Christmas rolls around; Regulus and Sirius are forced to clean the house until everything shines and serve the guests like slaves. A lot of their relatives had taken advantage of that.

But finally, the day to return to Hogwarts arrives, and the brothers have been celebrating for three straight days.

But returning to Hogwarts also means loneliness for both of them; no more chuckles exchanged as they scrubbed the floors. No more breathless conversations spoken during their work outs. No more small smiles given after beatings as a sign of comfort.

Only pain, loneliness, and bullying. Nothing more, nothing less.

* * *

On January 7th, Sirius bids goodbye to his baby brother and finds an empty compartment, where he reads his new book, _It's Kind of a Funny Story_ (it was a Muggle book; Sirius was still a rebel, and he was still hell bent on finding a way to go against his parents).

At ten thirty six am, the door slides open, and Sirius's eyes meet Lily Evans's.

"Oh... could I sit here?"

"Sure," Sirius says with a shrug.

"So... where are the other devils?"

"Excuse me?"

"You know- Potter, Lupin, Pettigrew?"

"Around, I guess. Remus is reading; James is rifling through a Quidditch magazine because he has no one to play Exploding Snap with; and Peter is probably still saying goodbye to his mum."

"Why aren't you with them?"

Sirius shrugs. "We had a falling out."

"Oh."

The compartment is silent for a long time.

"Where have you been, if you don't mind me asking?"

Sirius sighs. "Promise not to tell?"

"Look, I may not like James, and you and I don't exactly get along, but I'm not going to go spilling your secrets to the world."

"All right. I was suspended; I can't tell you why, but the reason for my suspension was also the reason for our falling out. But if anyone asks, there was a family emergency, and the others are giving me my space until everything is settled. 'Kay?"

Lily nods. "All right."

The train pulls away from the station, and the sun is setting before either speak again.

When Lily gasps, Sirius's attention is drawn away from his book to her horrified green eyes. Hesitantly, she reaches out to touch his neck.

Damn! His father had choked him quite a bit during the holidays, and a few of those times, he'd left bruises. If only he owned a turtle neck...

"Where did you-"

"Some Muggles attacked me," Sirius tells her. "They wanted money, but jokes on them, all I had were my fists. Don't worry, they didn't leave unscathed either."

Lily stares at him, suspiciously. "Why don't I believe you?"

Sirius shrugs. "I don't know 'cause it's the truth."

She looks like she wants to say more, but just then, the compartment door slides open.

"Hey, Lily Flower. What's up?" James Potter asks, not even noticing Sirius.

But Remus does. His eyes zero in on Sirius's bruised neck, but before he can get a good look, Sirius yanks his robes almost to his ears to hide the purple fingerprints encircling his pale throat.

Sirius's movement catches James's eye.

"What are you doing here?" He scowls.

Lily growls, "He's just sitting here, James. There's no need to be rude."

"If you knew what he did, you wouldn't be saying that."

"I don't care what he did. He obviously regrets it! So why-"

"Lily, it's okay," Sirius tells her. "There's no point."

"But-"

Sirius doesn't let her finish. He picks up his trunk and book before exiting the compartment, despite when Lily calls him back. Sirius vaguely hears James mutter, "Good riddance," and Remus's eyes are glued to his back.

He doesn't say anything, and that's what hurts the most.

* * *

The months crawl by, months full of loneliness, pain, and sadness. Regulus and Sirius can't help each other because if their family finds out, they wouldn't make it to Easter. The Marauders are avoiding Sirius at all costs; Sirius does the same because when they clash, words are exchanged, and that never ends well.

Sirius was caught up in a downward spiral, and he was nearing rock bottom. The cuts on his wrists can testify to that.

February 16th dawns like any other day. The scarce amount of leaves rustle in the wind; jackets are pulled tight around teenage bodies; everything is peacefully quiet.

Until a scream shatters the silence.

Students freeze in their tracks, and Gryffindors run towards the source of the yell: their own tower.

Minerva McGonagall bursts through the door to the fifth year boys' dorm, and she finds Peter Pettigrew sitting on his bed, his eyes wide as he stares at the open door of the bathroom. A shocked James Potter has his back to the wall, his wand shaking in his grasp.

But the bathroom is where she finds the real horror.

Remus Lupin, drenched in crimson, is cradling an unconscious Sirius Black; the black haired teen has vertical incisions running up his forearms.

"Oh my God," she whispers. "Mr. Potter, go get Madam Pomphry!"

James nods and sprints away.

Minerva kneels beside Remus and takes out her wand, waving it over the cuts on Sirius's wrists, vanishing the blood and stitching up the marks. Alas, magic cannot heal all of the damage. Sirius has lost a lot of blood, and the cuts are so deep, Minerva can't heal them all the way. Although, they are much narrower than before, allowing less blood to escape from the slit in the skin.

"Oh, dear," Madam Pomphry's voice sounds from behind her.

The nurse is kneeling beside the professor and lifting Sirius into her arms as if he weighs nothing.

"It's too dangerous to levitate him," she explained. "The magic may delay the healing process, and that's the last thing he needs right now."

The two adults and the remaining Marauders rush towards the Infirmary, Sirius's wrists still oozing blood and people staring in horror as they race past.

As soon as Sirius is laid on a hospital bed, Madam Pomphry turns to the Marauders.

"Outside, all of you. I'll call you when he's stabilized."

James opens his mouth to protest.

"No buts, James," Madam Pomphry tells him, although she appears sympathetic.

Remus pulls James and Peter from the room, and the three of them sit on the bench outside the Infirmary, waiting for the news that could end or mend the Marauders.

"Why?" Remus suddenly whispers.

"Why what?" James asks, although he has a pretty good idea what Remus means.

"Why were we such jerks to him? He made a mistake, but... no one deserves that."

"Wasn't Sirius suspended?" Peter mutters.

The other two nod.

"Do you think something happened to him... at his home?"

Remus and James are silent for several minutes before James finally speaks:

"Man, Wormtail... I wish you hadn't said that."

"I wish I hadn't thought it," Peter agrees.

Once again, the trio falls silent.

But then, Remus breaks into a grin. Not a happy one; a bittersweet one, like he's just solved a murder case.

"Only one way to find out," he says.

Remus stands and faces his friends. "Sirius won't be stabilized for a while. Come on."

"Where are we going?" James asks as he and Peter leap to their feet and rush to catch up with the speed-walking werewolf.

"To find out what really happened to Sirius when he was suspended."

* * *

They find him easily enough. They didn't come across any Slytherins, but one Ravenclaw named Carly Anne knew where he was. The library.

The trio is kind of surprised. Sirius wouldn't be caught dead in a library unless he was pranking someone, but then again, the two are polar opposites in terms of personality.

He's seated in a back corner all by himself, surrounded by books. Remus is shocked when he finds that at least fifty percent of the books splayed out before him are Muggle books. 25% have to deal with the Wizarding World, and the other quarter are textbooks.

"Regulus Black?" James says, having not seen Regulus since Sirius had introduced them. That had been back in Regulus's first year.

Regulus glances up from his book (" _To Kill A Mockingbird_ " by Harper Lee) and raises his eyebrows.

"Speaking, James Potter," Regulus replies.

Remus suppresses a smirk; that's one thing Sirius and Regulus have in common. They're both annoyingly cheeky.

"Your brother's in the Hospital Wing," Remus informs him, feeling that this is as good a place to start as any.

Regulus nods. "I know; word travels fast at Hogwarts."

"Why didn't you go to visit him?" James demands in an accusatory tone.

Regulus either doesn't notice or chooses to ignore it. "Well, from what I heard, Sirius... attempted suicide. Knowing my brother, he'd choose... the painful way," Regulus says it as if he's trying to find an euphemism to use for 'slitting his wrists' but can't find one.

"Anyway, I estimated that he lost at least a few pints of blood in each wrist. It'll take Madam Pomphry around half an hour to stitch up his wounds with the aid of magic. She'll give him a blood replenishing potion, and she won't allow anyone to see him for at least an hour and a half after she gives him that. That's two hours after Sirius was admitted; it's only been forty-five minutes."

The Marauders stare at him in amazement.

Regulus shrugs. "I'm good with logic and puzzles and time and schedules. Sirius says I'm... what were his words? I'm a mastermind in the making because I'm so good at planning. Anyway, what do you need? Don't tell me you came down here just to tell me that because we both know that's a lie."

Remus sits down across from Regulus, and James and Peter sit on either side of Remus, so they're all facing Regulus like he's on trial.

"Regulus... did something happen to Sirius when he was suspended? Something your parents did, perhaps?" Remus asks, hesitantly.

Way to be blunt, Lupin, he thinks.

Regulus freezes. "I'm not supposed to discuss family matters with people outside the family," he says, stiffly, almost like the saying has been rehearsed.

"Well... we're Sirius's family, too," James reasons.

"Really?" Regulus snaps. "Because you haven't been acting like it!" He hisses.

"We know," Peter assures him. "We've already realized our mistakes, and we want to help, but to do that, we need you to help us."

Regulus stares into their eyes for so long, the Marauders start to shift uncomfortably.

Finally, he takes his wand and waves it over his face.

"What-" James is interrupted by Remus's gasp.

Regulus's face is covered with fading and yellowing bruises. It looks as if someone had taken great delight in smacking the kid around. Purple fingerprints encircle his throat, standing out darkly against the pale skin of the young boy.

"Oh, wow," Remus murmurs. "Have you tried salves?"

Regulus shakes his head. "Father enchanted our bodies- mine and Sirius's, that is- so that any magic or salves we used would cause painful burning and could cause the bruises to last longer."

"What happened in that house?" James mutters.

Regulus shrugs. "He... treated us like house elves, made us do every chore, cook every meal. He made us exercise for hours a night until we could barely move from exhaustion. He beat us."

"I'm sorry," Remus whispers.

Regulus shrugs with a bitter smile. "It's not like you betrayed us, so why should you be sorry?"

Remus can't help but notice Regulus's choice of words; he didn't say abuse or beat or hurt or anything of the sort. He said betrayed.

Somehow, that word makes the already awful act seem worse.

"How badly was Sirius affected?"

Regulus sighs, and it takes him a minute to speak.

"Badly, but he was affected by you guys even more. And just so you know, I may not show it, but I am very loyal to my brother. I don't care what stupid thing he's done; if you hurt him again, you'll be Azkaban by lunch," Regulus snarls.

The Marauders nod, slightly scared of this tiny teenage boy.

"I'm going to go see if Madam Pomphry will let me see him. If she does, I'll come back and tell you how he's doing and if you can see him."

And then, Regulus Black gathers his books and leaves the library.

* * *

Regulus tracks down the Marauders a little under an hour later and tells them that Sirius is doing better. Physically. His mental state will need some work, but then again, Remus already knows that.

Madam Pomphry lets the three inside with the strict order to take it easy around Sirius; he's very fragile, and the Marauders know she doesn't just mean physically.

Sirius tries to sit up when they walk beyond the curtain, but Remus sits beside him and lowers him back to the bed.

"Don't try to sit up," he tells his friend.

Tears fill Sirius's eyes as he meets Remus's.

"Moony, I'm so, so sorry for-"

"It's all right, Sirius."

"No, it isn't!"

"Yes, Sirius, it is. What you did was stupid, but you're my friend. Who was there when I was all alone in first year?"

"James?" Sirius guessed. "Peter?"

"Actually, you were the first person to talk to me, and James and Peter followed. If it weren't for you talking to me, we wouldn't be friends today," Remus recalls.

"But still-"

"No buts, Sirius," Remus says. "Regulus told us about... your home life."

"You mean ours," Sirius corrects.

James nods. "Siri... we can help."

"No, you can't. My parents are extremely powerful-"

"And so are mine," James says. "In the Auror Department and the Healing Department, both of which could help us get you guys out of that house."

Sirius hesitates. "But-"

"No buts," the trio tell him in unison.

Sirius smiled, ever so slightly. "Thanks, guys."

"No, Sirius," Remus whispers. "Thank you."

To this day, Sirius doesn't know what Remus was thanking him for. Or maybe he does. I guess we'll never know.

* * *

Things start changing pretty quickly after that.

The Marauders return to four whether than three, and I suppose you could say there were now five members, considering they also went out of their way to include Regulus. When a Slytherin (and Sirius's younger brother, who he apparently hates) started hanging out with the Marauders, the entire school is shocked.

But alas, summer arrives, and the five of them are forced to return home.

"Write as much as you can," James tells Sirius as he embraces the taller boy.

"I will," Sirius promises.

"And if your parents get too out of hand, you're always welcome at my house," James offers.

Sirius nods. "Thanks, James."

"That goes for you, too, Regulus," James adds, addressing the younger Black.

Regulus appears to be stunned by the offer; after all, he never thought that he'd make a dent in the Marauders' friendship, much less become one of them. He never thought James would accept a snake into his home, but Sirius's suicide attempt and Regulus's help had changed everything.

"Thanks, James," Regulus says.

"Sirius, Regulus," a voice speaks in a stern tone from behind them. "We must be going."

Regulus and Sirius nod to their friends before following their father.

James stares after them as a sinking feeling worms its way through his insides and closes his throat. It's the feeling that something is about to go horribly wrong.

* * *

As soon as the father and his two sons step out of the fireplace, Orion shoves Sirius to the ground.

" _You_ ," the man snarls. "It's bad enough that you hang around mudbloods and blood traitors, but now, you've roped your brother into it!"

"He didn't rope me into anything!" Regulus shouts. "I could've stopped hanging out with them at any time, but I didn't want to!"

"Stay out of this, faggot!" Orion growls.

"Don't change him that!" Sirius orders as he gets to his feet.

"He's my son. I'll call him whatever I please!"

"Well, I'm his big brother, and it's my job to protect him from low lives like you!"

Orion's hand connects, harshly, with Sirius's cheek, and Regulus attempts to pull their father away from Sirius, but he only ends up getting shoved into the wall.

Orion starts pounding on Sirius, punching and kicking every part of Sirius's body. He doesn't stop when Sirius begs for him to do so; he doesn't stop when he hears snaps and cracks.

Regulus can't do anything about it. Their father is three times his size, so he does the smart thing. He reaches into his pocket and withdraws a single object.

Sirius manages to see what Regulus is doing through his swollen eyes, and his split and fat lip curls into the tiniest smile.

Smart, Reg, he thinks before his mind is once again clouded with pain.

Orion pants as he finally stops his merciless assault, and Regulus quickly hides the object in his robes.

"Take him to his room," Orion commands, turning to Regulus. "If you don't do as I say, you're next."

Regulus helps Sirius stand, and he supports Sirius as they slowly climb the stairs, their father watching their every move.

"It'll be okay, Siri," Regulus murmurs as he lays Sirius on his bed. "We're getting out of here."

"How?" Sirius mumbles. "Father shuts down the Floo every time I'm here. Been doing that since my Disappearing Act in the summer of '74."

Regulus doesn't respond. He starts tossing clothes and items and everything he can into a back pack before using his wand to shrink Sirius's trunk and slipping it into a pocket. He hands his elder brother the boy's own wand before going to his room.

He returns moments later with his own backpack and his wand in one hand. In the other, he holds his broom.

Regulus grabs Sirius's wrists and pulls Sirius to his feet, his eyes darting to the door to ensure it remains shut.

"Reg, where are we going to go?" Sirius mutters.

"The Potters'," Regulus answers as he slides open Sirius's window. "We're always welcome there, remember?"

"Well, yeah, but-"

"No buts, Sirius. Get on your broom," Regulus orders, and Sirius obeys.

Sirius flies from the window and hovers outside as Regulus mounts his broom and lifts off of the ground.

The door bursts open, and in a single second, an electric blue light hits Regulus, causing him to tumble from his broom and begin screaming and writhing on the floor in extreme pain. His hand smacka against the nightstand on the way down, and blood trickles down his forehead.

"Reducto!" Sirius yells, sending their father flying into the wall outside of Regulus's room, where the man landed, dazed.

Sirius assists a twitching Regulus in getting back on his broom before the two boys fly off into the night.

"Thanks," Regulus rasps, his voice hoarse from screeching.

Sirius shrugs. "You'd do the same for me."

Sirius reaches over and pats Regulus's back, staring in worry at Regulus's scattered expression and the stream of scarlet still dripping down Regulus's face.

Good thing Mrs. Potter is a Healer, Sirius thinks.

The two boys fight against the strong winds and the cool air that is present in the night as they race through the dark sky.

"There it is!" Sirius exclaims, pointing out the Potter estate, and Regulus follows him to the ground.

Sirius knocks on the door, and that's when he realizes how true that saying was- we'd have no luck if not for bad luck. As soon as James opens the door, Regulus collapses into Sirius's arms, his head injury looking worse than ever.

"Oh, Merlin!" James shouts. "Mum!"

Mrs. Potter appears, and her eyes temporarily widen before she goes into 'Healer' mode.

"Put him on the couch," she demands, and Sirius carries his baby brother into the house and rests him on the couch. Sirius wipes away some of the blood on Regulus's face with his fingers while Mrs. Potter sits beside him, her Healer kit in hand.

Sirius stands back while Mrs. Potter treats his brother, and suddenly, the room begins spinning. The numb feeling had faded into a deeply rooted pain in his body. He'd almost forgotten about his own injuries.

"Geesh, mate, you'd better sit down. We don't need both of you passing out," James says, his eyes worried, as he forces Sirius to sit in an arm chair.

Sirius watches as Mrs. Potter traces her wand over Regulus's scalp, and both dim and bright lights shoot from her wand, hitting Regulus's wound.

After several moments, Mrs. Potter stands, and Sirius stares at her in anticipation and fear, awaiting an answer on his baby brother's condition.

"He's going to be fine," she tells him. "A moderate concussion, and there was some nerve damage, but with proper care, his injuries will be taken care of. Now, let me have a look at you, Sirius."

Mrs. Potter examins Sirius, healing any broken bones and smearing salve over the bruises.

Sirius smiles. "Thanks."

Mrs. Potter grins. "You never have to thank me, Sirius."

* * *

The next day, the five people sit around the table, Regulus having woken up a few hours before.

"You two are welcome to stay here as long as you need," Mr. Potter tells them.

"As long as you _want_ ," Mrs. Potter corrects.

Regulus smiles. "Thank you."

"I want you guys to stay here, but we're forgetting one thing," James says. "Your parents. Would they try anything?"

Regulus and Sirius exchange glances, grinning.

"We have a way around that," Regulus says.

* * *

Later that day, Mr. and Mrs. Black sit at the same table, seating themselves across from the Potters and their own children, as though Walburga and Orion are on trial. Which, I suppose, they are.

"What is this about?" Walburga demands.

"The custody of your children," Mr. Potter states, firmly, before sliding a stack of papers across the table. "Sign these papers, and my wife and I will be the legal guardians of your children."

Orion scoffs. "No sale. You can keep the blood traitor, but we're taking Regulus. He isn't a _complete_ lost cause."

"I don't think so," Sirius replies. "Sign the papers for both of us, or this... will be taken to the Ministry."

Sirius and Regulus rest two necklaces side by side on the table, and Regulus taps them with his wand. Two images popped up above the objects.

Orion and Walburga raise their eyebrows.

"What is this?" Orion asks.

"Ever heard of Magical Engineering?" Sirius asks.

Orion rolls his eyes. "Of course."

"Regulus has quite the talent for it," Sirius says. "There is a recording device in both of these necklaces. Now... watch."

The images begin to play, one displaying Orion beating Sirius and the other showing Orion using the Cruciatious Curse on Regulus.

"If we take this to the Ministry," Regulus states, "you will likely go to Azkaban, but even if you somehow manage to talk your way out of it, something like this could ruin your reputation."

Orion and Walburga exchange glances before Orion picks up the quill, nearly snapping it in two, and the parents sign the papers.

Who knew a handful of 'one seconds' could change the course of history?

* * *

 _I wasn't originally going to include Regulus, mostly because including him would make him and Sirius OOC, but I couldn't leave him with his parents. It just wasn't fair._

 _How was it? This was my first long one shot that wasn't a prompt given the me by someone else on fanfiction, so I'd like to know how it went._


End file.
